


Trip to Bespin

by FlexingMyPen



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 15:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14428500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlexingMyPen/pseuds/FlexingMyPen
Summary: This is a trip to Bespin/ Leia and Han's first time fic.





	Trip to Bespin

Leia was exhausted. They were all exhausted. None of them had slept since Echo Base. She should have been able to pass out as soon as her body hit a vertical surface, but her adrenaline had been on for so long she couldn’t shut her brain off. Her bare feet slapped against the cool metal. She was wearing one of Han’s old t-shirts and a pair of his lounge pants that she had rolled up several inches. That’s how she found herself wandering the deck of the Falcon, footfall after footfall in search of some peace.  


“Hey.” Han’s voice startled her. She had thought she’d be the only one awake. Han and Chewie had been going just as long as she had. Threepio was manning the cockpit with very specific instructions to wake them if needed. “What are you doing up?”  


“Couldn’t sleep,” Leia says softly, eyes wide and tight lipped. She really didn’t want to get into anything with Han right now. She didn’t have the energy.  


“C’mere,” he said softly. His deep voice was inviting, and damn, Leia was so tired. She went and sat next to him on the Dejarik booth, her elbows resting on the table and head in her hands.  


“What are you doing up?” She echoed back to him.  


“Worrying,” Han answered. He smelled fresh. His hair was still a touch damp. He must have taken a shower, Leia noted. Thank goodness for the Falcon’s exemplary water refiltration scrubbers.  


“Yeah.” Leia took a deep breath and paused. “I think we can trust Threepio enough to sleep for a few hours though. He’d be more likely to err on the side of caution than to let us sleep through an emergency.”  


As Leia talked, Han’s hand snaked around behind her shoulders and started rubbing firmly at her neck. She should stop him. What excuse could she give? Her brain fought for an escape, but Han’s hand was so warm, so strong. It felt… reassuring? When was the last time, in this horrible mess of a rebellion, had she felt anything close to reassured?  


Han propped one foot up along the back of the booth, knee bent, and pulled Leia closer. She gave in and scooted up against his chest, resting her head under his chin. “As soon as I get some sleep, I can go through the galley and catalogue supplies. I’ll see what kind of rationing we need to do,” Leia prattled on. Han continued to rub her neck, in slow, solid circles, letting her talk herself out. His thumb found the knot at the base of her neck, where she stored all of her stress, and Leia let out a soft sigh.  
Han was so solid. After a few minutes of being held against him, Leia’s eyes finally began to droop. “I should get to bed,” she whispered.  


“Mmm,” Han grunted, but didn’t move to let her go. Gradually, her breathing slowed. Her head became heavy on his chest. Han waited a few minutes to make sure that she was fully out, then scooped her up and carried her to his bunk. 

Leia startled herself out of sleep, gasping softly and balling her hands into fists.  
She was warm. It was heaven. She'd probably have a closet full of soaked uniforms again, but it was worth it.  


Her eyes gradually adjusted to the red light. Red light? That's right, she thought. I'm on the Falcon. Her brain, still exhausted after only a few hours sleep, and traumatized from the events of the past few days, took a moment to notice that she wasn't in the bunk that Han had set up for her. The red floor lighting was coming from the fresher. Which meant she was in Han’s cabin. The warmth was from being pressed up against Han Solo's chest.  


Always on the defensive, her brain told her she should be outraged. That after falling asleep in the lounge, he should have left her in the booth or waken her to go to her own bunk. But she was warm and drowsy, and she couldn't find the strength to wake Han and fight.  


His breath was slow and even against her cheek. In fact, if she just turned her face a bit… That kiss yesterday in the engine room had been something. Leia hadn't ever really had the time of day to give to any suitors in the past. She wasn't sure if the sparks that had flown, the excitement that she had felt, and the ardor, was typical for a first kiss, or if it has just been Han.  


He hadn't wakened when she startled a few minutes ago. Maybe she could just kiss him again. For science. Just to see if it was as good as she remembered.  
Leia tilted her head up an inch and her mouth was even with Han’s. She nudged a little closer, and their lips met. Han’s were soft, and full. Kissing him in his sleep felt sweet. Until she heard him give a soft groan.  


His forearm came across her shoulder blades and he kissed her back. The kiss that had started comfortable and yielding quickly changed to heavy and thrilling. Han’s arm at her back was firm. Leia was surprised, but it felt supportive.  


Han’s tongue snaked into her mouth, and Leia’s mind went blank. It was a new experience for the rebel leader whose mind was always trying to stay ten steps ahead. It was delicious. She threaded her fingers through Han’s hair.  


Han eventually broke the kiss. “Not a bad way to wake up, Princess, but it’s still the middle of the night,” he smirked.  
“Oh, just shut up and kiss me!” Leia commanded, now craving his mind numbing carasses.  
Han didn’t need to be told more than once. He rolled himself over her, supporting himself on one elbow. His other hand found the space between the shirt and the drawstring of the pants she was borrowing. She shivered as his thumb slid against the top of her bare hip.  
Han couldn’t believe what a turn on it was seeing Leia in his clothes. If he had known this is what would happen when they were stranded, he would have broken the Falcon’s hyperdrive himself months ago.  


His mouth lazily explored the shell of Leia’s ear, then her jaw and neck. He noted every sensitive spot, which ones made her moan and which ones made her squirm.  
Leia’s hand slid up and down Han’s back, once in a while switching to appreciatively squeeze his bicep. She had always known that Han was strong, constantly working on repairing his ship wasn’t a light task, but she hadn’t realized how defined his muscles would feel. It was almost too much. He was fucking beautiful.  
Slowly, Han’s hand worked its way up underneath Leia’s shirt until he palmed her breast. She bucked against him as he squeezed her, then pinched her nipple. She pushed against his chest. Han sat up, thinking he’d gone too far and she was calling him off, but Leia merely pulled her shirt off. She used the opportunity to reach up and start kissing his neck, lightly grazing him with her teeth followed by her tongue. She could hear his breath quicken.  


Slowly, they settled back against the bunk. Han moved to kiss Leia’s mouth again before working his way down her neck to her chest. He swirled his tongue around one nipple, and gently gripped it with his teeth. “Han,” Leia whispered, arching her back.  


He decided then and there that he would keep going before Leia had a chance to change her mind. He reached down and untied the drawstring on her borrowed pants, and slid them down to her ankles, leaving Leia to squirm and kick her way free.  


“Scoundrel!” She growled.  


“Say that again,” Han challenged.  


Leia made eye contact and whispered, “My scoundrel.”  


Han moaned. He immediately braced his hand against the back of Leia’s thigh and began to kiss his way up her leg. Han’s tongue swiped across Leia’s sex. She cried out. Goddess, he loved how verbal she was. He set about discovering what he could do to make the Princess become more undone, licking and sucking. When he fucked her with first one finger, and then two, Leia gripped the bed sheets. And when he curled his fingers inside her, she came hard, her hands fisting in his hair, her things gripping his face until she collapsed in a spent heap.  


Han scooted back up to the head of his bunk, and slowly ran his fingertips up and down Leia’s arm as she came down from her high. Leia turned and nuzzled her face into the crook of Han’s neck.  


Her breath came back, and she kissed him lightly. She reached around his back and pressed him closer, enjoying the feeling of his bare, warm chest against her own. Her hands worked down Han’s sides, and then she gripped him through his pants. Han was hard.  


It was Leia’s turn to play scoundrel, and she treated him to his own round to kick your ankles out of your pants, laughing at the larger man trying to wiggle about in the confined space.  


Finally freeing himself, Han grabbed Leia by the hips and swung her on top of him. “What’s so funny, Princess?”  


“Nothing.” Leia bent down and lightly bit Han’s pectoral eliciting another manly growl. “Nothing at all.” Reaching behind her, Leia captured his cock. She pumped it in her hand a few times, getting a feel for him, before raising herself off of Han’s chest and sliding down with him inside of her.  


Leia’s eyes rolled back in her head. Han felt amazing. She rose herself up and down a few times before leaning forward. Her hands resting on either side of his head, Leia rocked back and forth, creating just the right friction. Han reached down and held onto Leia’s hips, thrusting up as he followed her rhythm.  


It wasn’t long before Leia came for the second time, and Han, who had been hanging on for dear life but sure wasn’t going to come before her, was soon to follow. Leia rode out her orgasm until all she was nothing but a pile of goo on Han’s chest.  


The best part, the perfect part, was that he had somehow managed to shut everything else out. There were no stormtroopers, no Vader, no troops to command, no droids to instruct. There was just Han. And it was in that contented state of just Han than Leia fell back asleep. 

Han woke the next day at 0700, his usual time, and did some rounds around the Falcon, checking to see that Threepio hadn’t noticed anything in the night, making sure nothing else had broken down, and then he heading to the galley to make breakfast.  
He served Chewie a large omlet, and then sat down with his own plate. << You look different, cub.>> Chewbacca commented around a bite of eggs.  


“Different you say?” Han scratched at the stubble on his chin. “I don’t know what you could mean.”  


<< Uh huh.>> Chewie rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast.  


Leia slept for 10 hours, recovering from her lack of sleep prior, and storing some up for the future. And then, she attempted to catalogue the Falcon’s food rations before realising that the galley was fully stocked.  


Han met her in the doorway, and pulled an omelet that he had set aside out of the oven. “Breakfast, Princess?”  


“Thanks, scoundrel.” She accepted the plate with a smirk, and was rewarded with the classic Han Solo wink.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fan fiction (aside from a very short one shot on Tumblr). I have no beta, so any respectful comments are welcome.


End file.
